Breathing New Air
by Priestess Mayumi
Summary: A new beginning...a family rivalry...and two people who had nothing in common. It started out innocently, but where will it end?
1. Chapter 1: Fire

Disclaimer: I do not, regrettably, own The Lion King or any recognizable characters, instances, etc. All such are property of that one company run by Mickey Mouse. I am not making money from this, in fact I'm draining my electricity bill…but the price of art…;-)

Warning: Watch out for people with dull spoons, they're the ones you'll never suspect. Rated T as purely a cushion of protection. I don't think I'll put anything to graphic in here, so don't be alarmed.

Note: For those of you who are unaware, Kopa is Simba's first son. He's the one Rafiki holds up at the end of the first Lion King movie (notice the cub looks _nothing_ like Kiara, and why would they do the ceremony twice?). He's in some of the original Lion King spin-off books, but mysteriously disappears between the books and Simba's Pride. Coincidence? I don't think so. This is what I would have had happen if I were in charge (*sigh* someday).

Comment, por favor. Me le gustan mucho.

Gracias, con amor…Priestess Mayumi.

Chapter One: Fire

Fire. Smoke. Fire.

The emotions were dizzying.

Fire. Smoke. Fire.

Pride Rock was burning around her, but she was too confused to register it. All she thought about was the smoke, thick and towering above her. She was not afraid.

Fear is a deadly emotion.

The screams resounded all around her. Mostly female, though she could pick out a few scattered male tones.

_Father_.

She couldn't move. Her legs wouldn't respond to her mental prompts. Her senses were overloaded. Nothing was clear. It had all become a kaleidoscope of color and sound, all the images before her eyes blurring and blending together.

Numb, she forcefully pounced onto her feet. Numbly, she raced along the rocky ledges, trying to find someone…something…anything that would give her a clue to what was going on.

A cold, and quite unexpected drop of ice cold water dropped on her. Smelling an odd smell in the air, she looked up. Rain. _Rain_.

Rain is fire's worst enemy.

Things were becoming sharper now…clearer. The sounds became more distinct. Joy, she heard. Happiness, contentment, and hope.

But masked, in the darkness, in a black corner, there was something else. Sorrow. Fear. Anger…

…Hatred.

All of the sudden, out of the corner of her eye, a shape dodged in front of her. Though it had probably been far enough away that she could have avoided it, her vision told her to swerve. The combination of burnt roots and slick stone was her enemy. She heard the soggy branch crack, and then she felt…falling.

Falling…just falling.

It was all going black now. In the back of her head she heard a proud lion's roar, but even louder was the sound of the mournful voices that cried, and the few that called her name, expecting an answer.


	2. Chapter 2: Dust

Disclaimer: Same as before-probably always will be unless I decide to add something else…still thinking about it.

Warning: Peanut butter may contain peanuts…alert the media. I've been fiddling around with the whole chronological deals: when did this happen, how old is this person, etc. because lion's age spans are very different from our own. You should check it out sometime; it's very fascinating. I have tried to approximate events and ages as best as I can while trying to keep the facts about lions and the dramatic events of this story as symbiotic as possible. If you find a problem with these calculations or with any other facts about lions that I have weaved, I'm sorry. I have used all my resources to the best of my abilities as a writer. Use your imaginations and wish the errors away. ;-)

Remember, always use the buddy system, wash behind your ears, and review people's stories (emphasis on the last one). 

Thanks for reading! w/love Priestess Mayumi

Chapter Two: Dust

The dust was thick and choking. Zira coughed again, trying to keep the gravely powder from coating her tongue and throat. She wasn't used to the dust…none of them were.

She was crouched, with several other lionesses, in the dirt, trying to nurse her small cubs, Vitani and Kovu. Vitani was the elder by a couple of months, and she showed it. She was a vicious little girl and as tough as any in the group. She would grow up to be a great hunter; there was no doubt of that in Zira's mind.

She worried about Kovu, however. Although he was a good size for one his age, he wasn't very aggressive like the other cubs. He was, at best, timid and tried his best to blend into the background. This wasn't good behavior. He would have his reign challenged if he didn't grow a backbone soon.

Looking up, she cast her eyes about for her eldest son, Nuka. He was over sulking in a corner by himself, pretending to amuse himself with some stones and wild bramble. All feelings of pity were run out by stirrings of shame and disgust. Her eldest son was not a leader like his father had been. He had barely even been a good cub. Day after day he sat there, worthlessly. He was below her notice.

Nuka hadn't always been that way, but that had been before the Great Fire…before Scar's death…before…

…Before that _murderer_ stole the throne.

She was not deaf. She had heard the celebrations today, even from here. She understood what they meant, and understood that they had been ultimately slighted. A curse be on that Simba with the blood-stained paws and his worthless son! Try as she might, Zira could never find it in herself to think ill of Nala. She liked the younger lioness too much. It wasn't her fault…the females didn't really have a lot of options if they wanted children. Nala had been suckered in by the strong, proud, young Simba…as all of his pride had.

Zira snarled. Not her. She would have nothing to do with Simba or his pride…ever. And, as long as she had a bone in her body, she knew that she would stop at nothing to make sure that this new cub of his never, _ever_, became the new king.

Growling again, she stopped short when another lioness approached her out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw Dotty, one of her childhood friends, standing there with a bit of a frazzled look on her face.

"Zira, have you seen Nyasha?"

"She is missing?"

Nodding quietly, Dotty added, "Again."

Sighing out long and giving a roll of her eyes, Zira responded, "Well Dotty, this much I know for certain: Nyasha won't be found until she _wants_ to be found."

A/N: The name "Nyasha" comes from an ancient African language and means "mercy". You'll see much more of her later. And yes, I have depicted Vitani and Kovu as being about the same age for creative purposes, but they do have different sires (Vitani's being Scar and Kovu's being…I can't spoil that part yet ;-)


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